Joker
by shootingstar39
Summary: James. My best friend. My brother. Gone. Dead. Murdered. A oneshot about what happened on the night Lily and James died, told from Sirius' point of view.


**Disclaimer:** Characters belong to J.K Rowling.

**A/N:** This is my take on what happened the night James and Lily died, told from Sirius point of view.

* * *

The old floorboards creaked beneath my feet as I entered the small house. It was October 31st, Halloween. I shook my head slightly as I looked around at all the dust and dirt that covered the walls. If I was the one in hiding, I'd try to keep it a bit clean. Or at least, I thought so. Perhaps not, house keeping wasn't really my thing to be honest.

"Peter!" I called. "Peter, it's me Sirius!"

There was no reply, no sounds at all, just the wind outside, and the creaking floor. Peter's hideout was very lonely, and hard to find. Perfect, would be another word for it. No one would come look for anyone here, and no one would look for Peter.

I thougth it had been quite brilliant of me to tell James to make Peter the secret keeper instead. Becasue Voldemort wouldn't go after Peter first, Peter wasn't as strong as I was, and he wasn't James's best friend either, he wasn't like James's _brother_.

The only thing that surprised me was that no death eaters had come knocking on my door yet, it had been a week since the charm had been cast, and yet no one had come to torture me so that I would tell them where James and Lily were hiding. Not even my dear cousin Bellatrix had stopped by, and she loved to torture people.

It was this fact that had made me take my motorcycle to Peter's hideout. I needed to make sure the little guy was okay, becasue if Voldemort had sent some death eaters to Peter to find out where I was hiding – so that they then could torture me to tell them were James and Lily were hiding - then Peter might not be able to defend him self.

"Peter!" I called again. "Wormtail!"

Something wasn't right, I realized. Becasue Peter clearly wasn't in his hideout. Dumbledore had said that there perhaps could be a spy who gave Voldemort all the information he needed, perhaps he knew Peter was the secret keeper. But that was ridiclous really. Becasue I hadn't told anyone that I wasn't the secret keeper, like everyone believed, and neither had James and Lily. So that meant that the only one left to tell Voldemort Peter was the secret keeper was Peter him self, and Peter wouldn't do that.

Suddenly I froze and looked around where I was. There was no signs of struggle in this room, and it hadn't been iny in past two rooms I'd walked through. Peter wasn't here, but he hadn't been taking away against his will. That meant he had to have left the hideout by him self, but to do what?

What could Peter possibly have to do?

Something wasn't right, I could sense it. So I quickly turned around and ran out of the house. I had to get to Godric's Hollow. Beofre it was to late.

* * *

I landed my motorcycle on the ground and stumbled of it on weak legs. Already from the air I had seen the ruined house, with the top floor practically blown up. He had already been there. He'd killed them, he'd killed them all. James, Lily and Harry. Harry, he was just a baby. I mean, he'd just turned one for god's sake! He didn't deserve to die... none of them did.

I spotted the large figure right in front of the house and I called out to him. "Hagrid!" The giant man turned around and saw me, and I made my way up to him. I couldn't get out a single word, even though I wanted to.Voldemort had gotten to my best friend and his family, and I had been too late to stop it.

"There, there Black," Hagrid said, his voice a bit thick. "It'll be fine." He patted my back with one hand, using such force in the first pat that I ended up pressed against his chest. Suddenly I noticed what he held craddled in his other arm.

How was it possible?_ How_ could he still be alive? It was him Voldemort had been after, and James and Lily had just been obstacles in his way.

"Harry," I croaked, the little baby gazed up at me, and by the little something in his eyes, I guessed he recognized me. Those eyes, they were Lily's. The first thing James said to me when he walked out from the room where Lily had just been lying in labour, the first thing he said was 'It's a boy! He has her eyes.'

I was proud to have been chosen as Harry's godfather, it proof that James trusted me over anyone else, trusted me enough to take care of his son if anything ever happened to him, proof that Lily also – at least to some point – felt the same way.

"Hagrid?" I asked. "How can- Why isn't-" I didn't even know how to get the words out correctly, but Hagrid seemed to know what I was trying to say.

"Dunno," He answered. "Bu' he did, he was in his crib, an' Lily..." He cut him self of with a loud sob.

It didn't matter to me how Harry had survived. The important part was that he had, and that I was here to take care of him now, just like I told Lily and James I'd do.

"Give Harry to me Hagrid," I said. "I'm his godfather, I'll look after him."

"No, I have my orders from Dumbledore, I'm gonna take him ter his Aunt an' Uncle."

His Aunt and Uncle! I'd never heard either Lily or James ever say one good word about those people, well, Lily sometimes said James was a bit harsh against her sister, but they both agreed that her husband was a moron.

"You can't take him to those people!" I said. "That's not what Lily and James would have wanted! I'm his godfather, I'm supposed to take care of him!"

"If Albus Dumbledore, tells me ter do somethin', then I'll do jus' that!" Hagrid answered, and I began thinking.

There had to be a reason Dumbledore wanted to send Harry to his Aunt and Uncle's place, and if it turned out Harry wasn't being treated well, I could always go and get him later, and, although I was pretty sure neither of the – what was their last name now again? - the Dibbley's would like it, I could always come and visit Harry, visit him often. I was his godfather after all.

"Fine then Hagrid," I said. "Take my motorcycle to his Aunt, I don't need it anymore."

"Are yer sure?" Hagrid asked and I nodded. I may love that motorcycle of mine, but if I could in anyway help bring Harry to a safe place – even thoughI doubted how safe it was at those muggles – I would do anything.

So I told Hagrid exactly how the motorcycle worked, and then watched as he took of into the night sky with Harry in his arms. And then, I swallowed hard and walked towards the broken house that had once been my best friends home, knowing that since Hagrid was the one who got Harry, then no one else had entered the house, which meant that no one had come to... take care of the bodies.

The door was already open, so I simply stepped inside, my legs still felt weak.

And that's when I saw him. It was hard not to actually. He was lying on his stomach in the hallway, almost right in front of the stairs. His head was facing the wall, and I noticed that his eyes were still open, dead, and unseeing. The round glasses were crooked and broken and I fell to my knees by his side.

James. My best friend. My brother. Gone. Dead. Murdered.

But how? How could it have happened? How could Voldemort know where they were hiding. And then it dawned on me.

_...the only one left to tell Voldemort Peter was the secret keeper was Peter him self..._

It was all my fault. No matter how much I didn't want it to be true. If I hadn't told James to make Peter the secret keeper he wouldn't be dead right now. If I hadn't thought it would be best to use a person Voldemort first wouldn't suspect. I had played a part in my best friend's death. I couldn't believe it. But it was true.

I lifted James up a bit in my arms, the glasses fell of and landed on the floor. His body was limp, it was like holding a rag doll. I gently used two fingers to close his eyes. It was creepy to be able to look into them like that, without them looking back at me.

I realized that I was sobbing. I couldn't even remember ever crying before. Not even as a small child. My parents never took me out on picnics and such, I never had an oppertunity to scrape my knees or my elbows until I met James at Hogwarts. And then if I recieved a wound or a bruise during our pranks, or our nightly trips around the Hogwarts grounds it didn't matter, I didn't _cry_ becasue of it.

And as I sat there and sobbing hugged my best firend's body every single one of our pranks replay them selves in my mind, pictures, smells, yelling, laughter, everything I can remeber from each one of them.

We were alwasy jokers James and I. There was just something about preforming a good prank, a thrill so to speak, something that made us do it again and again, pulling Remus and _Peter_ – just the thoguth of him made my jaw tighten – with us, and always laughing our asses of afterwards.

Of course, James calmed down when Lily came along – or acually when Lily decided she could just try to go out on one date with him – but he was still a joker in heart, just like me.

Lily.

Where was she? I looked around and saw her lying on the floor, not so far away. I figured Hagrid must have moved her from the top floor. She was lying on her back, with one arm lazily held up by her head, and the other across her chest, a position she probably ended up in when Hagrid put her down.

I put James down on the floor, and carefully placed his glasses back on his nose, and then I walked up to Lily. Her eyes were closed, unlike James's, and she looked more like she was sleeping then actually dead. It got me thinking of something James said to me once.

'I love to lie next to her in bed and watch her sleep, she's just so beautifulwhen she sleeps,'

'Becasue then she's quiet?' I had jokingly replied, and James had punched me in the shoulder, playfully, yet hard.

I gently scoped my best friends wife up my arms. Her head tilted backwards, her long red hair falling like a curtain, and I carried her back to James where I then laid her down to rest next to her husband. I took James's hand, it was still somewhat warm, and placed it on top of hers. That's how they would have wanted to rest, until someone else came along to find them, to bury them.

I couldn't be that person, even togh I wanted to. Becasue I had to find Peter. I had to give him what he deserved.

I was just about to walk out through the door when I saw that people were coming out on the streets, dressed in their pyjamas. Muggles. I knew I couldn't just walk out, the muggles saw what had happened to the house, and seeing a man walking out would be suspicious. I only had one option.

I had always loved being a dog. You could move so much quicker with four legs, and you could eavesdrop on any conversation. People would quiet down or leave if they saw a man standing close when they had a private conversation, but not if it was just a dog.

I sneaked out of the house, the muggles were to busy staring and wondering to notice me, I saw some wizards in the mass too, but they didn't notice me either. And then I began running.

* * *

I withdrew my fist and shook it slightly, it hurt a bit. It had taken me all night to find Peter, and half the day, but it was all worth it to get to punch him in the face. Peter gripped his nose, it was bleeding, a lot. He tried to wipe it of with his travel cloak, but it didn't work to well.

"S-sirius?" He asked. "Why did you punch me?"

"Why did I punch you?" I asked, and then I snorted. "Hm, I don't know, maybe becasue you bterayed James and Lily, could that be it?" I pulled out my wand and pointed at him, I could see the fear in his eyes.

"I-I don't know w-what you're talking about," Peter stammered as he backed up more against the fence I had been able to corner him against. I had followed him and watched him from behind trash cans for an hour in my dog form, waiting for the right moment, when the muggles began to scatter of, when he didn't blend in as much. And when the right moment finally came, I had rushed out, barking like mad, and chased him to this very place, where a fence, almost as tall as he, blocked his path.

It had felt great to just turn back into human and punch him, feeling his nose crack beneath my fist. But of course, the punch was just the start of what I was going to do with him.

"You despicable little rat," I spat. "How could you betray them to Voldemort? Only four people knew you were the secret keeper, Lily, James, you and I. You told Voldemort where they were didn't you? Of all the evil, twisted things... Do you even care about the fact that we were your only firends in school? Do you even remember that you were invited to their wedding? Do you even recall standing outside the delivery room when Harry was born? You _disgust_ me." And then I spit on the ground right infornt of his feet.

Peter just stood there almost completely pressed against the fence, his hands behind his back, his small eyes watery, and darting back and forward. Left to right. I could tell he was thinking.

"Lily and James, Sirius, how could you?" He then asked in a very loud voice, actually he yelled it, almost at the top of his lungs.

I didn't understand, was he actually accusing me...? Was he mental? Well, he might as well be, anyone who betrayed his friends just like that, without even thinking twice, couldn't be completely sane.

And then it happened, very quickly. I caught a glimpse of Peter's wand as he moved his hands from behind his back, and then came a huge explosion. I was slunged backwards by it, my ears rang, and I could hear muggles scream, but all I could think about was to get Peter. I managed to get up on my feet again, and then I desperatley looked around for the lousy traitor.

And my eyes found him, they found him just as he - with with a very painful facial expression - used a small knife to cut of his own finger. The knife fell down in the deep crater his explosion had created, and Peter, Peter he shrunk. The cloak he had been wearing, the one that was stained with his blood, fell down on the ground, and I caught a glimpse of something small moving away, fast.

That bastard.

He'd used his animagus form to get away. The animagus form he wouldn't even have if it wasn't for me and James!

James. It hurt more then ever to think about him, now that I had let his killer get away. My best friend was dead, there was no denying it any longer. He was gone, gone forever. The person who'd been more like a brother to me then Regulus – who actually was my brother, by flesh and blood – ever had. And Lily, sweet Lily who'd always tried to so bravely keep a smile on her face, even in these dark times, she was gone too.

And Peter, Peter the filthy traitor, he'd gotten away.

"Ha!" The short laugh escaped my lips, followed by another one, and then another one. Soon I was laughing without control. I just couldn't stop. It was like all I had inside me, everything, all the pain and all the shock, finally came out with this laughter.

And then the ministry men came, and the auror's. Someone gripped me, and then came another set of hands that tried to hold me back, even tough I wasn't even fighting back. I just kept laughing. Like the joker I was. Like the joker I'd always be.

* * *

**This story was completed in about an hours time. It was simply an idea that popped into my head when I read an interview with J.K, and she answered a question about if SIrius was really laughing when he got arrested or not, and the answer was something about him looening a bit becasue of James's death. **

**Anyways, it was written very quickly, and some parts are a bit rushed, so I would love for your comments on how I can improve it (Becasue I am planning on reposting it after rewriting it a bit.) **

**Reviews are, as always, appreciated.**


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